Storm Watch
by Flora Winters
Summary: While on a class outing, Clark's friend Terry gets struck by a bolt of lightning. Now the young man can control the weather with a thought. MM, Language, OC, Violence
1. Chapter 1

Storm Watch

Flora_Winters

Summary: I do not own Smallville, and I'm not making any money here either. Enjoy the story. You're welcome.

Summary: While on a class outing, Clark's friend Terry gets struck by a bolt of lightning. Now the young man can control the weather with a thought. MM, Language, OC, Violence

**Chapter One**

Terry St. Kloud growled low in his throat and turned away from the torments of the bathroom mirror. His hair was as good as it was going to get.

"I must have done something horrible in past life to have been cursed with this mess."

He hated what his parents and friends called a "cow" lick. Everyone else had nice hair but him.

"Why did you let the cow lick me for? Did you know this would happen? I hate you all!"

When his hair was wet, it was long, straight, and dark as polished obsidian. But, the moment it dried, his locks would curl and look like a fucked up nest of serpents with special needs. And then there was that damn cowlick.

He'd given some serious thought about shaving his head, but then decided he would rather put holes through his wrists and make out with a life size statue of Jesus Christ in front of a stoned congregation getting stoned with really big stones.

At least he was pretty for his age. Smooth clear skin, high cheekbones, full sensual lips, a perfectly carved nose, and gorgeous smoky quartz eyes. All the girls clung to him, and a few guys even gave him more than a passing glance, but he wanted none of them. He only had eyes for one person.

"Terry!" His mother yelled from the bottom step. "Clark's waiting! Quit primping and get with it! Do you want to miss the bus?"

He rolled his eyes and turned back to the face he would always see in the glass. He hated when his school would do outings on Saturdays, but he always did extra credit because he was very much in love with his 4.0 GPA. He loved lording it. He was gorgeous and smart and no one would ever know he had insecurities, too.

"Stupid hair. I hope that cow is dead."

He flipped off the light switch and bounced down the steps with pose and grace befitting any fifteen year old with style. His frolic came to a drastic halt when he saw the beat of his heart seated at the breakfast table enjoying a succulent looking Red Delicious.

Clark Joseph Kent. Tall, handsome, and had a heart filled to the brim with gold. The farm boy looked and gave him a smile that lit the whole room like a warm sunrise after a long and scary night. He could bathe in that smile for eons. For it was that smile that had frozen him in time and got him hit in the face by a volleyball all those years ago.

"Leave it to you to scarf down the last apple," Terry drawled, sweeping in with a practiced bored flourish.

Clark nodded and held out his big hand. "I saved you the seeds."

Terry took them. "You're so thoughtful. That's why I love you so." He put them into his pocket.

Clark snickered at what Terry knew he perceived as a joke. As long as Clark thought it was a joke, Terry could say it whenever he wanted and hang all over him like a lover. It was a running joke.

He picked up his bag, kissed his mom on the cheek, and took Clark by the arm. "We really should give my mom some grandkids soon."

Clark laughed and Terry's mom told them both to get the hell out and be safe. Once they were outside, Terry let go of Clark's muscular arm.

"Wow," He gawked, seeing the red truck for the first time. It was big, shiny, and new. "That's nice."

Clark grinned from ear to ear. "It was a gift."

"Nice gift," Terry whistled, following him down the porch steps. "How fast does it go?"

The taller teen gave him a mischievous glance. "Care to find out?"

Five minutes later, they were both screaming and yelling out the windows as they flew down the highway.

00000000

Terry stepped onto the bus with windblown hair. He looked wild and kind of crazy at the same time. Friends greeted him as he made his way back to where Chloe Sullivan and Pete Ross were both seated. They had saved him and Clark a seat.

Chloe looked him over. "You look nice."

He instantly put his hands to his hair and cringed inwardly at doing so. "What do you mean?"

"Exactly what I said," she smiled sweetly as he took the window seat.

He scooted over, making room for Clark. The bigger boy sat down and Terry looked the faces over around him.

Excellent! She Who Must Never Be Mentioned wasn't amongst them.

"Nice studs," Pete said, mentioning Terry's new earrings he'd gotten the other day.

He thanked him.

"Ruby?" Chloe asked. "Garnet?"

"No," he shook his head. "Too cheap for that. I just paid for the gold. The stones are probably glass."

Clark laughed and gently took hold of Terry's earlobe to get a better look at the stone. Terry struggled not to pop some serious wood right then and there. His earlobes were his secret spot. He almost swooned as Clark pinched a little, but made no sound. He continued to act normal.

"Red looks good on you," he said, dropping his hand away.

Terry nodded. "I know."

Mrs. Smith boarded the bus with her hot pink clipboard and blew her whistle to get everyone's attention. "It is now eight o'clock," she said. "Time for roll call."

Everyone quieted down even more as she began to call off student names.

"Lana Lang?"

Terry narrowed his eyes to slits. Oh, how he absolutely abhorred that most hated name. Hopefully she fell down a pit and broke her neck.

He hated her for two reasons and two reasons only.

"Lana Lang?"

She had really nice hair and she held the affections of Clark Kent. Clark wanted to love her, date her, have sex with her, make babies with her.

"Lana Lang?"

He was just about to scream that the stupid bitch wasn't here until he saw that most hated head of nice hair pop up. He let out a low, seething hiss of disdain.

"Here!" She Who Should Fall Down A Flight Of Stairs said. "I'm sorry. I fell asleep."

A few people laughed; Clark included.

Terry instantly hated her all the more.

"Terry St. Kloud?"

He raised his hand, struggling not to mimic She Who Must Die's voice. "Here!"

Mrs. Smith finished up and then began to make some announcements. He didn't deign to pay them any attention. She jabbered on and on about how they were all to be put into groups of three and given special assignments.

By the time the bus finally began to move out of the school parking lot, Terry was grinding his teeth so hard they felt as though they would shatter down his throat at any second. His perfectly manicured nails were digging so deep into the bus seat, he could no longer feel his fingers. They had gone completely numb on him.

Clark was smiling like an idiot and he wanted to hit him for being so damn happy. Him, Clark, and She Who Is Fucking Retarded were in a group together. The universe was out to get him.

"Oh, goddamn it!" He hissed under his breath, turning his face away to gaze out the window.

Clark touched his arm. "What did you say?"

"Nothing," Terry sighed, holding his left thumb with his right hand. "My thumb just hurts. I think I may have jammed it getting out of your truck."

"Let me see it," Clark said, taking his hand.

He kept his face neutral while Clark gently rubbed his thumb with his own thumb and index finger, massaging it. It was moments like this that made him think there was hope for Clark and him.

"How's that?" Clark asked, eyeing him with blue concern.

Terry forgot all about ever being mad. All Clark had to do was look at him and his mind would instantly feel with only him.

"Better," he whispered, looking down at what Clark was doing.

Clark continued his administrations for another five minutes, until it was interrupted by someone saying something that had Terry seeing red. He spun around and jumped over his seat with fists flying before anybody knew what was happening.

"He's dead! HE'S DEAD!"

"Terry quit punching him!"

"And that's why I don't date Gemini's. They're crazy."

00000000

The bus was pulled over on the side of the road with the caution lights flashing. Clark was bewildered. Chloe and Pete were howling with laughter. She Who Needed To Leave Town Post Haste was fussing over Whitney's busted nose and Terry was being chewed out by a very distraught Mrs. Smith.

"What were you thinking?" She roared. "Couldn't you have at least been courteous enough to have waited until the bus had come to a complete stop first? Didn't your mother teach you anything about safety?"

Terry made no move to apologize. He had even wanted to hit Clark for pulling him off the unconscious football jock. He had knocked Whitney Ford out cold and then had continued beating his face.

"Well?" Mrs. Smith frothed at the mouth. "What do you have to say for yourself?"

Terry just looked at her.

"What would you have me say? Sorry? I apologize? Never gonna happen. He should have kept his mouth shut. If he does it again, I'll hit him so hard he'll never get back up."

Mrs. Smith's jaw dropped.

"What has gotten into you?" She cried, hugging her hot pink clipboard tightly to her bosom. "My star pupil!"

That was when Clark stepped in. Terry looked up at the sky and thought a passing cloud looked a bit like a bunny rabbit. A big, fluffy white Thumper.

"But, still," Mrs. Smith shook her head at Clark. "Violence is not the answer."

Terry's eyes flashed with rage. "But it did shut him the fuck up, as we have just witnessed. Your theory is outdated."

Both jaws dropped.

"D…D…DETENTION!" Mrs. Smith screamed. "THE BOTH OF YOU!"

Clark dropped his head.

"UNFAIR!" Terry screamed just as loud.

"SIT DOWN!"

"WE'RE ON THE ROAD!"

"BE QUIET!"

"CLARK DID NOTHING WRONG!"

"TWO DETENTIONS!"

00000000

The bust began moving again and the both of them were made to sit in the very front seat. Chloe and Pete were still laughing. Whitney's nose was all bandaged up and he was starting to get a black right eye.

Terry couldn't look at Clark. He knew he was really upset.

"Shut up," Clark deadpanned.

Terry did look at him then.

"I know," Clark said, not looking at him still. "So, shut up."

Terry was confused.

What did Clark know?

Did he know that he was sorry for getting him into trouble or that he was…?

His eyes went wide and the color drained from his face. He suddenly wanted to put the window down and crawl out it.

"No talking!" Mrs. Smith snapped.

Clark's back got even more rigid and Terry kept his eyes down for the whole ride.

00000000

Clark, She Who Must Swiftly Die, and Terry were given their assignment and sent in the opposite direction as everyone else. They had to take pictures of different animals in the forest. Clark had the digital camera, She Who Needed To Seek Death had the list of animals they needed to capture on film, and Terry wore the whistle around his neck should they get lost or in some sort of trouble.

All three walked in silence. Clark took pictures of butterflies, frogs, different birds, and a squirrel holding a nut.

"SNAKE!" Lana shrieked, trying to jump around Clark's neck.

Terry swooped in like a hawk and snatched the green snake up. He held it up and smiled as its dark tongue kissed his smooth cheek.

"Chill worm," he smiled, posing with it for Clark. "We're going to be stars you and I."

That actually made Clark slightly smile and he got his picture taken. It actually took all his willpower not the throw the serpent at She Who Was Holding Tightly Onto Clark's T-shirt.

"No, Lucifer," he giggled, letting the gorgeous creature slither around his arm. "I'm afraid I'm allergic to apples, but I do love me some big, juicy, succulent pomegranates."

Clark snorted and snapped another picture.

Lime green scales and yellow eyes hypnotized Terry. The serpent looked like some kind of expensive piece of jewelry.

"Belly dance?" Terry asked in shock, beginning to move his narrow hips a little erotically. "You're such a perv, Satan."

She Who Was Scared Shitless laughed nervously. "Can you take the devil somewhere away from me and let him go about his business? Please?"

Clark snapped one last photo and Terry let the snake go. It took its time slithering away into the greenery that swallowed it up.

"That was scary," She Who Finally Let Go of Clark's T-shirt said. "I hate snakes. You're really something, Terry."

He gave her his very best blood chilling smile. Truth be told, he was terrified of snakes, too. He had goosebumps right now and he was struggling to keep his teeth from chattering. When she had screamed about their being a snake, he had wanted to jump and crawl around Clark's neck, too. But, he had outshined her. He had been brave.

"I do my best."

"I am sorry about Whitney," she went on, trying to make conversation with him now for gods only know why. "What did he say to make you hit him like that?"

Thunder boomed in the distance.

"SQUIRREL!" Clark yelled, blinding them both with the camera's flash.

00000000

The three of them came to a stream and Terry kicked off his shoes and socks, and rolled up his pant legs. He waded out into the rolling water to where a big rock was jutting out. He climbed up it and sat down, waving to Clark who was still on the rocky shore.

"Be careful!" Clark waved back, kicking off his shoes and socks as well.

Terry wished it was just him and Clark here. They could both be out here splashing and getting wet if it wasn't for _her._

The flash of the camera caught his attention and he looked just in time to see Clark lower the camera and put it down where his shoes were. Had he just taken his picture?

With molten green envy, he watched Clark hold onto _her _hand as they both waded through the water. His heart felt like a dead lump of spent coal within his chest, but this was something he was just going to have to get used to. Clark had been crushing on _her_ for years now.

The two of them suddenly looked as though they were having a very serious discussion about something, but he couldn't hear them over the water. _She _looked across the water to where he was seated and pointed, but Clark only shook his head looking sad and dejected.

_Has she turned him down?_

_THE BITCH! HOW DARE SHE?_

His breath froze like ice crystals in his lungs when she reached up and patted Clark's rosy gold cheek and waded back to shore by herself. She had left him standing there in midstream…literally.

_THAT SLUT! SHE REJECTED HIM!_

The sky darkened, but he paid it no mind. "Hey!" He called to Clark. "Where is Sh…Lana going?"

There! He spoke it!

_FUCK!_

Clark waded over to where he sat as if the current meant nothing to him. The farm boy looked up at him and shrugged his broad shoulders.

"She's hungry."

_Liar!_

"Oh?" Terry said, wishing he was higher up for some reason. "Wanna head back with her? It is almost noon isn't it?"

Clark shook his head. "Is there room up there for one more?"

Terry's heart thumped back to life in his chest and he nodded. "Always my love."

Clark snorted and climbed, only to freeze. Terry took instant notice of how he had gone all rigid and pale. Clark slid and fell into the water on his butt.

"Clark!" Terry yelled, standing up on the rock, knocking some green rocks into the water.

Lana was running through the water towards them.

Terry moved to jump down, only for a really bright light to fill his eyes. A loud boom deafened him and he went flying backwards into cold, glowing green water, causing a huge splash. Darkness had taken him way before a pair of arms struggled with intense pain to pull him from the toxic green glow.

Clark swiftly carried him to the bank and began to administer CPR. Lana was beside herself and no help at all, so she took hold of the whistle around Terry's throat and began blowing while Clark continued giving Terry the kiss of life.

"I just had to leave my cell at home," Lana growled, blowing on the whistle with all her might.

"Come on!" Clark yelled at Terry. "Breathe!" He breathed into his mouth again. "Please…"

Lightning flashed overhead and storm gray eyes snapped open. Clark noticed a slight green tinge within them. Terry took a deep breath, kissed Clark full on the lips, and just before he fainted, he smiled.

"So?" Lana wheezed, dropping the whistle as Clark lifted the much smaller teen back up into his arms. "How's that for confirmation?"

**To be continued…**

Please review and tell me what your opinions. Do you like it? Hate it? Isn't Terry a mean little bitch or what?

~Flora


	2. Chapter 2

Storm Watch

Flora_Winters

Summary: I do not own Smallville, and I'm not making any money here either. Enjoy the story. You're welcome.

Summary: While on a class outing, Clark's friend Terry gets struck by a bolt of lightning. Now the young man can control the weather with a thought. MM, Language, OC, Violence

**Chapter Two**

Terry awoke to the sound of beeping and a stark white ceiling above his head. It was not his ceiling, because his ceiling had a great many glow in the dark stars that would have been shining down on him with all their blueness. He blinked his eyes several times and turned his head to the side, seeing the machine that was making the annoying beeping sound. It was right by his bed, next to his head. Apparently he was hooked up to an IV bag that was now empty and the machine was letting everyone who could hear it know about it. That was when he realized it was very much real, and with a jolt, he sat up in a wild panic.

Where was he? How did he get here? Why was he hooked up to an IV? And why wasn't someone running in to make the damn thing shut up?

He gazed down at his left hand and saw the bandage and a clear plastic tube leading out from it. He knew there was a needle in his vein and became lightheaded all of a sudden. His head got all fuzzy and his vision blurred. He took a deep breath, and turned away from it, doing his best not to pass out.

He'd always had a severe phobia of needles. They literally terrified him. The last time he'd had to get a shot, it took four male nurses to hold him down in the chair, and he'd only been ten at the time.

The door to his room opened and he shrank back, pulling up the covers as if they would protect him. He let out a sigh of relief, and dropped them when he saw that it was his mother. She was holding a cup of coffee and had her purse hanging around her neck as if it were a chain.

"Oh my God!" His mom said, nearly dropping her coffee, speeding over to him as quickly as she could. "You're awake." She sat her coffee down on the little dresser and bent to give him a big hug. He dodged her purse before it could shatter his nose.

"What happened?" He asked, watching her remove her purse so she could give him a hug. "Why am I here?"

"You were struck by lightning," a blond headed female nurse said, stepping into the room.

He blinked at her, shying away, terrified she was going to pull out a needle. "What?"

"Clark was here all day," his mom told him, hugging him tight. "Martha just now got him to go home with her. That boy wouldn't leave your side. They even let him ride in the ambulance."

Terry shook his head. "I was struck by lightning?"

"Yes," the nurse told him, turning off his IV machine. "I am now going to remove your IV, Terry."

He turned his face away from her and squeezed his eyes tightly shut. He started to breathe really heavily and he felt his mom take hold of his other hand. He squeezed it tight, waiting for the pain to come.

"Calm down, Sweetheart," his mom cooed, gently brushing her fingers through his hair. "You're going to hyperventilate."

"I can't help it," he breathed heavily, doing his best not to scream and jump from the bed. "Just get it out of me already."

Thunder rumbled in the distance.

The nurse chuckled. "All done. You're a very lucky boy."

He opened his eyes and looked at his left hand. There was a Rainbow Bear band-aid over where the needle had once been. He loved Care Bears.

"Do you need to use the restroom?" The nurse asked him, taking a step back from his bed.

He nodded his head. He really, really did.

The nurse looked passed him to his mom. "Do you want to tell him?"

"What?" He blinked, looking from the nurse to his mom. She squeezed his hand tighter. "Tell me what?"

"Your hair," his mom began.

He immediately pulled his hand free from her and put both of them to his head. He breathed a deep sigh of relief. He still had a head full of hair. At least he wasn't scorched and missing patches of it.

"What about my hair?" He asked, moving to rise from the bed, being careful with his hospital gown. "Am I a mess?"

His mother helped him from the bed, being very gentle with him. As he stood up, she helped him with his gown by tying the back of it, so he wouldn't show his marble white buttocks to the world.

"Just don't flip out on me," his mom practically begged as she finished tying the knot into a pretty bow. "We can always dye it."

_Dye it? What the f…?_

"Show me!" He demanded.

The nurse brought over a small handheld mirror and handed it over to him. He took it from her and held it to his chest for a few seconds, closing his eyes.

_Please…please…please…please…please…please…please…_

With a deep breath, he opened his eyes, held the mirror up to his face, and gazed into the scratched surface.

The sky outside the window darkened.

00000000

Martha Kent looked over at her son as she drove down the road going a few miles below the acceptable speed limit. She didn't quite know what to make of the new mask he was wearing. It was a face she could not read, and she prided herself on being able to read her son's every gesture. He looked as though he were a statue seated beside her.

"Terry will be fine, Sweetheart," she said, giving him her warmest smile of positive reassurance. "The doctor said so. All he had was just a few minor scrapes."

Clark only gave a stiff nod, not looking at her. His eyes had looked hard as diamonds and still looked just as hard now.

Biting her bottom lip, she pulled the car over onto the side of the road and put her blinkers on. When she turned, he was looking at her with a storm of confusion and worry all over his swiftly shifting features. He looked as though he were about to yell or cry. Maybe both at the same time.

"Talk to me," she said, rolling down their windows. "You can always talk to me. No matter what."

He squeezed his eyes shut and turned away from her. His hands were bunched up into fists and he looked like he wanted to pick up a tractor and throw it across a field of cabbages.

_He's scared._

She scooted closer and rested her head against his shoulder. "Talk to me, Sweetheart."

"He…he wasn't breathing," Clark whispered. "I…I had to give him CPR. This…This is twice now."

Martha kept silent, letting him talk.

"I…I was so scared…because it was lightning. Lightning kills things. Hotter than the surface of the sun. I learned that in class. Totally different from crashing a car into a small river…and Lex is a stranger. Terry is…Terry. This was lightning and it struck him. It came down out of the sky and it hit him. It hit him so hard, it sent him flying into the water."

She kept silent still.

"There were meteor rocks everywhere. The water was glowing all around him. It was so hard pulling him from the water with all of them everywhere. I almost passed out twice. If Lana hadn't been there to help me the best she could…"

Martha's eyes widened. Her baby could have drowned also. Meteor rocks could have made him drown. He could be dead right now…along with Terry…

"He was dead. All I kept thinking was that I couldn't lose him. He means so much to me. He makes me laugh. He's been there through rough times. He gets me into so much trouble. He smart and he's incredibly stupid. Do you know I now have two detentions because of him?"

Martha cocked a brow. They were going to have to discuss this more in detail later. Two detentions?

"He's so mean and so terribly nice, too. Nobody can hate him for long, no matter how hard they try to do so. His humor always brings everyone around to his side. You can't argue with him, because he can dance circles around you and then you end up believing you're the bad guy and apologizing to him, and he forgives you for ever thinking he could be wrong in the first place."

Martha closed her eyes and continued to breathe normally. Was this some kind of confession of love? It sounded like he was about to…

"And when he opened his eyes…he kissed me. He kissed me with a smile…before passing out…"

_And there it is. So much for grandkids._

A few minutes of silence passed.

"Mom?" He asked.

She lifted her head off his shoulder and looked up into his big blue eyes. They were wet and bigger than silver dollars.

"What do I do?" He asked.

She took a few seconds to collect her thoughts and gave him another warm smile. "How do you feel?"

The look he gave her meant she had thrown him for a loop.

"Huh?" He asked.

She gently poked the spot where his heart beat underneath. "How do you feel?"

He bit his bottom lip and rubbed the place where she had poked him. "I…"

"I've known about Terry for years, Sweetheart," she laughed, rolling her eyes. _God knows I did. _"The way he would look at you, making his flirting with you into a game he could get away with without being too terribly obvious. I remember all the times his face would become a storm of envy when you would bring up Lana, but quickly mask it with sunshine when you were looking his way. I do have gay friends you know."

Clark looked like a fish out of water.

"You were giving him mouth to mouth," she went on, gazing into memories of her hilarious friends. One had pretended to drown at the pool one day just so the handsome lifeguard on duty would give him some lip action. "I am sure when he came back, he thought he was in some kind of heaven…and…well…you know…" She laughed then.

Clark looked down at his lap. He looked tortured. "I didn't know that…"

_Of course you wouldn't, Sweetheart. It isn't your nature to look for such things. You are far too innocent._

"I do…" He continued, but not finishing his words. "I do…but, I don't know what to do about it."

"It'll be okay," she reminded him. "You care about him. That much is very obvious. Just be careful."

He pulled at his pant legs. There was dry mud all over them.

"I love you," she told him, looking out the windshield. "That's never going to change. Nothing will ever change that. I just want you to be careful. This is a small town. Not a very liberal place."

_My son may be a homosexual extraterrestrial. This would make all those religious nutcases lose what nuts they have left._

Clark nodded his head. "If he gets to come home today, may I go see him?"

_Aw, he said, "May I?" That's so sweet. You see, Martha? You did raise him right. Not only does he breathe life back into people, he has such wonderful manners, too. _

"Of course," she said, turning her blinkers off and putting her left turn signal on before pulling back onto the road. "I'll make some soup you can take over with you."

The smile he gave her lit up her whole universe.

"Mom?" He asked after a few moments.

She looked back over at him. "Yeah?"

"He's going to be so mad."

"What do you mean?" She asked, getting concerned again.

He was playing with the hem of his t-shirt. One of his nervous gestures. He was pulling on it and twisting it about. He ruined many good shirts doing that, but she could never break him of it.

"He's going to have white hair."

**To be continued…**

Another chapter done! I'm so happy. I hope you (my readers) enjoy it. Please give me a review and let me know what you think about it. I enjoy receiving and reading every one of them. They mean a lot.

~Flora


	3. Chapter 3

Storm Watch

Flora_Winters

Summary: I do not own Smallville, and I'm not making any money here either. Enjoy the story. You're welcome.

Summary: While on a class outing, Clark's friend Terry gets struck by a bolt of lightning. Now the young man can control the weather with a thought. MM, Language, OC, Violence

**Note:** **Here is chapter three. I hope you all enjoy. And to everyone who has reviewed the last two chapters, thank you so much for doing so. It truly means a lot.**

**Chapter Three**

Terry sat motionless in the backseat of his mother's ivory Mercedes. His mom had stopped at the local market and he had vetoed to stay right where he was. There was no way he was going to let people see him looking like an albino on crack. He had his hair stuffed and hidden under a black bandanna with sparkling silver skulls. His mom had gone home to get him a change of clothes and something in order to hide his hair because he refused to step foot outside unless his hair was covered. He'd even demanded sunglasses, too. He told her to bring his Mary Kate sunglasses. The really big ones that practically hid his whole face behind lavender lenses. He knew he was being totally stupid. It was dumb to think people weren't going to know who he was. In fact, his rational mind was screaming that he was just making himself stand out even more than having white hair would. People would just think he'd gotten a bad highlight or something.

_I'm being retarded. Someone with special needs has more sense than me. I should just take all this shit off and just go help Mom pick out dinner to cook. _

He leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes. He was really frustrated because he couldn't remember a damn thing about what had taken place after beating the shit out of Whitney on the bus. He was missing a few hours of his life and the doctor said that this was completely normal. Lightning does this to people. Sometime it is short-term memory loss or it can be forever. The doctor had told him to be thankful that he was only missing a few hours. Some survivors lose weeks, months, years, some their entire memories. They wake up as blank slates with lost puppy eyes.

He bit his bottom lip and rubbed his smooth brow.

_I need to talk to Clark. Clark knows what all happened. He was there with me. Mom said he was in the ambulance with me. She said he never left my side until his mom had come and practically begged him to go home with her._

He crawled up into the front seat and pulled down the sun visor that had the mirror attached to it. Reaching behind his head, he slowly began to undo the bandanna and shook his mane free. Taking a deep breath, he lifted his gaze and stared into the smooth reflective surface.

_God! I look like a skunk. _

It was true. There were streaks of white in his dark hair and it looked as though there was more than there had been at the hospital.

_Oh, shit! What if it's spreading? What if it falls out? SHIT!_

He quickly put the bandanna back on and turned on the radio. He needed to listen to something other than his fucking Gemini brain that never knew when to shut the fuck up. It was always going, going, going, until it was fucking gone.

"A special news report," a female voice said over the radio with that kind of music that means the sky was falling, the rivers were flowing with the blood of millions of dead babies, and everything was on fucking fire. "A disturbing new study shows that studies are disturbing."

His left eye twitched in agitation and something smashed the hood of the truck parked beside his mom's car. The truck started making a panic noise and people came running over to see what the heck was going on.

Terry unlocked his door and got out. His gray eyes widened just a little bit behind his big sunglasses.

"Holy shit!" The owner of the truck came up, quickly turning off the panic alarm with his key ring. "What the hell happened to my baby?"

A large melon sized ball of hail had smashed in the hood of the guy's shiny yellow truck.

Everyone was looking up at the sky.

"What if that had hit someone?"

"They'd be dead."

"Should we go inside?"

"The sun is shining though? An airplane?"

Terry slunk back into his mom's car, locked the door with a click, and turned the music that was playing up so he didn't have to listen to the people outside discuss the end of days and how Nostradamus was right. He just wanted to go home, call Clark, and find out what the hell he couldn't remember. Plus, he wanted to know if Clark was okay, too.

00000000

Clark finished all of his chores just in time to hear the telephone ring. In a flannel red blur and a motherly eye roll, he got to the phone first and answered it. "Terry."

"How do you do that?" Terry asked on the other end. "I know you don't have caller ID on your kitchen phone."

Clark smiled and leaned back against the kitchen doorframe. "And how do you know I'm on the kitchen phone?"

"I can hear the refrigerator running," Terry answered, sounding as if he were pacing back and forth in that way he does whenever he is frustrated and wanting to break something over somebody's head. "Plus, you always lean back against the doorframe and your voice echoes a little because of the hall."

_He's good, _Clark nodded and chuckled silently under his breath. "I'm glad you're okay. How are you feeling?"

"Alive," Terry spoke softly now, fondly. "Thanks to you."

A warm silence followed. The both of them did this sometime. Took comfort in the silence, but knowing the other was there listening should one have something he needed to say.

"Mom is fixing beef stew," Clark said after a few moments, looking over at his mother stirring the big pot on the stove. "Is it okay if I bring some over to you?"

"You know I love your mom's cooking," Terry said, sounding as though he'd just taken a seat on his bed and laid back. "I really need to talk to you to. Just let me know when you're on your way. Bring enough for you to have some, too. You know I don't like to eat when no one else is."

Clark's heart did a sort of somersault. _Is he going to ask me about the kiss he gave me? If he brings it up, what is he going to do? What am I doing to do? I need to call Lana. Breath mints? I need to stop and get me some._

"I will," Clark smiled, telling him goodbye and placing the phone back on the receiver with a small click. He gazed over at his mother who was looking at him with a satisfied grin on her face. "What?" He asked.

She simply shrugged her shoulders, turned back to the stove, and began stirring the stew again.

He pursed his full, brutal lips and walked over to the bar to face her. "What? Why are you smiling like that for?"

In all seriousness, she looked over at him. "Just be careful. And whatever your choice or feelings, Clark, don't hurt him. He's…he's a delicate boy."

"Delicate?" Clark asked, knowing his mom was being serious, and he was going to be careful. He cared for Terry deeply. The last thing he wanted was to cause him any form of pain. "You should see what he did to Whitney's face."

He went into graphic detail.

**To be continued…**

_Please review and tell me what you all think. I hope you enjoyed. Thank you so much. _

_~Flora_


	4. Chapter 4

Storm Watch

Flora_Winters

Disclaimer: I do not own Smallville, and I'm not making any money here either. Enjoy the story. You're welcome.

Summary: While on a class outing, Clark's friend Terry gets struck by a bolt of lightning. Now the young man can control the weather with a thought. MM, Language, OC, Violence

**Chapter Four**

Terry played with a cherry tomato on the end of his fork. He just twirled it around and around, until he remembered that he had come downstairs complaining about being hungry and ate it. It burst all over his tongue in a delightfully salty sweet explosions of instantaneous death. He had even imagined the fruit begging piteously for its life before his pearly whites cut off those screams. Turning his gaze towards the clock on the wall, he cocked a brow, and that was when the phone rang. He was up and out his chair in a swoosh of flare and picked up the phone right on the third ring. One must never pick up the phone too soon. A boy might think he was desperate or something.

"Yes, Clark?" He greeted in wondrous monotone.

A few seconds of silence and then a scoff. "I'm just now getting ready to leave. Mom couldn't find a lid for the bowl, so she had me get down on hands and knees to look for one. I banged my head up real bad."

"Break anything?" Terry asked, walking back over to his freshly made garden salad. He had no idea what kind of dressing his mom had made, but it tasted just like the kind you get on the salads at the Japanese place in Metropolis. He didn't remember the name, but the food had been really, really good.

"No," Clark answered and Terry could hear him walking through the farmhouse. Clark's booted feet had a very distinct sound whenever he walked across a hard surface. "Just the cabinet."

Terry rolled his eyes. "Your keys are on the inside of your jacket pocket."

A few more seconds of silence and he heard Clark laugh under his breath and mutter something he couldn't make out. "I'm on my way," Clark said. "See you in a few minutes."

"All right," Terry replied, taking another bite of his yummy salad. "Buckle up and drive safely."

"Will do," Clark said.

Terry pushed END on the cordless phone and placed it down on the kitchen table. He was nervous about Clark being on his way to see him now. What would the farm boy think about his hair? Would he say anything about it? He quickly downed the rest of his tasty salad and hurried upstairs to brush his teeth, gargle some Scope, and then floss away. He knew Clark was bringing his mom's legendary beef stew, but he wanted to greet him with the perfect smile. Maybe it would distract him from the white hair.

A knock came on the bathroom door and he opened it up. "You have to go in?" He asked, seeing his mom in her Scooby-Doo scrubs. "Clark's bringing stew."

She nodded her head. "Mr. Baker just called. His dog took a nosedive down the stairs and may have broken both back legs ."

"Larry?" Terry asked in concern and then wrinkled his nose. "Suicide no doubt."

She bopped him on the head and gave him a tight squeeze. "Clark is going to be here with you, so I won't have to worry about you."

He hugged her back and smiled as he rested his cheek against her shoulder. It was nice that his mother trusted Clark the way she did.. It made him feel all warm and happy on the inside.

"You don't have to worry about me," he assured her, walking back downstairs behind her, seeing her out the door. "What happened was a…one in a million chance or something like that. I doubt it will ever happen again." He knocked on the big wooden door just in case though. "Plus, my knight in rainbow armor and future husband will always be there to watch out for me and protect me."

"I love you, Sweetheart," she said, having him lock the door behind her. He stood there watching and she honked the horn as she drove off. She always did that.

He closed the door and flipped the deadlock. He needed to fix himself and put on some better clothes. He always made sure that he looked just as good, or if not better than She Who Needed To Chip A Front Tooth.

He raced back up the stairs to finish flossing. He only had about seven minutes left and he couldn't keep Clark waiting at the door for another half hour again.

00000000

Clark pulled into Terry's drive, seeing that his mom's car was not there, and honked the horn the way he always did just to let him know it was him and that he had arrived. He hopped out of the truck with the hot beefy stew, closed the door, and raced up to the front door. With a stomach full of butterflies and wasps, he reached out with his index finger and pushed the doorbell.

He didn't have to wait as long as he usually did. It only took Terry three minutes to answer the door this time, and when Terry did open the door, Clark almost dropped the stew right there on the porch.

There Terry stood. The boy was dressed in black, tight fitting bell bottom jeans and a black form fitting t-shirt with a grinning silver skull across the front. His hair was teased to insanity. He looked like he had a lion's mane or something. A black lion's mane with streaks of snowy white all throughout it.

_Oh my God, _Clark spoke to himself. _He looks just like that guy from that band. German. Won countless awards. What was his name? What were they called? Tokyo Bathhouse?_

"FOOD!" Terry cried, snatching the bowl from Clark in one swift movement. "THANKDAGODS!"

Clark blinked and Terry's slender figure was already retreating with prize held high over his head, swaying those narrow hips down the long hallway. He quickly followed suit, closing the door behind him.

"I thought you were never going to get here!" Terry yelled from the kitchen.

Clark kicked off his shoes at the door and made his through the house towards the kitchen. "I thought you were never going to answer the door," he replied, walking in, finding Terry getting down two bowls and going for spoons in the drawer.

He watched how Terry moved through the kitchen with an airy grace. The boy always moved as if a million eyes were watching his every move and he was shining for them all to see and gape over. His wild mane seemed to float around his face like soft feathers, or wisps of spider silk. In a way, it looked almost supernatural.

"Terry?" He asked, and the smaller boy looked up from where he was setting the table for the both of them to eat at.

Smoky quartz eyes blinked and a pale blush rose in those perfectly sculpted cheeks. "What? Did you want the blue bowl?"

"I'd like a hug," Clark said, opening his arms.

He watched how Terry swallowed and stood up straight as an arrow pointing to Heaven. "I'm fine, Clark," he said, cocking his head to the side. "Really."

Clark motioned with his hands. "Come here," he said, opening his arms a bit wider.

_Why is he acting like this for? He's never turned down a hug from me before. He's always thrown himself into my arms._

Terry cocked his head to the side and Clark suddenly decided it was pouty time. Nobody could resist the power of his pout. It could move mountains. And if push came to shove, he'd even add the sad puppy eyes. That would make Satan lose all his pride and get down on his knees, begging for him to put in a good word with Jesus.

_Is it because of the kiss? Is he afraid I'm making fun of him?_

Terry slowly walked around the table and made his way up to Clark. Clark pulled him into a tight embrace and smiled. "I'm glad you're okay," he said, being careful with his strength. "You have no idea how worried I was."

He felt Terry hug him back, and after a few moments, Terry said, "Thank you…"

Clark gave him another squeeze and leaned back, looking down into Terry's face. It was a mask he had never seen before. Tight and closed off. No connection.

"What's wrong?" He asked, wondering if he should kiss him, thinking that would end this awkward foolishness and they could go to having fun.

Terry tightened his hold on Clark's green t-shirt, bunching it up a little in his slender hands. "I don't remember," Terry whispered, not looking up at him. "I can't remember what happened after I broke Whitney's head."

Clark's happy smile slowly faded away as those words shared their meaning with his brain. And when those words registered, his heart sunk faster than Jack Dawson in the freezing North Atlantic Ocean.

"STEW TIME!" Terry crowed, spinning away with a velociraptor growl he always made when he was excited about something tasty going into his mouth. That sound used to make people back up into karate poses, expecting some kind of Jurassic attack on their asses.

Clark quickly put his happy face back on and took a seat across from Terry. Picking up his spoon, his stomach told him that he was no longer hungry.

**To Be Continued…**

Please review and tell me what you think. Like it? Hate it? I enjoy reviews.

~Flora


	5. Chapter 5

Storm Watch

Flora_Winters

Disclaimer: I do not own Smallville, and I'm not making any money here either. Enjoy the story. You're welcome.

Summary: While on a class outing, Clark's friend Terry gets struck by a bolt of lightning. Now the young man can control the weather with a thought. MM, Language, OC, Violence

**Chapter Five**

Clark turned off the water and began to dry his hands on the crimson towel when he heard the drums. Turning off the bathroom light, he opened the door and began to follow the drums down the long, windswept hallway to Terry's bedroom. Stepping up to the hail beaten door, he reached out with his hand and gently pushed it open a little bit more and peeked around it.

The room was in shadow and a slender figure stood before the shattered window, looking out at the woods beyond the backyard. A flash of violet lightning in the heavens illuminated Terry's lithe silhouette and his mane was billowing like smoke about his bare, bone white shoulders. Clark could smell a subtle hint of incense and something darkly floral on the stormy breeze.

_It's getting late_

_It's getting dark_

_In the end of the night, I can feel your warmth_

A gentle boom of thunder rolled across the sky and a spider web of lightning lit up the sky like fireworks on the Fourth of July. He watched Terry take a single step back from the window with his arms out as if to shield himself from the glowing hot tongues of dragons. The small gasp of fear that escaped Terry's throat propelled Clark forwards.

_Come up close_

_Close to me_

_Coz in the in the end of the night, I can feel you breathe_

As if feeling his presence near, Terry spun around from the window, smoky quartz eyes glowing in the darkness as if they were lit up from within. Clark stopped in his tracks and they both just stood there looking at each other. He could feel the energy building in that room like some kind of powerful static electricity. A shiver ran down his spine, because if he took another step, he was going to do something he wouldn't be able to ever take back. Terry gave him a vampire grin and threw himself into Clark's embrace, wrapping his arms around his neck.

_Don't be afraid_

_Don't be alarmed_

_In the end of the night, you're in my arms_

Terry's sweet red lips found Clark's and the electrifying kiss set his brain on fire. His lips were so soft and supple, causing heat to spread like magma through his blazing veins. Terry breathed into him like a hurricane, shattering his every reserve and resolve as if they were made from thin sheets of ice. Clark stumbled forward a few steps and gently lowered them both to the leaf and rock strewn bed, deepening the kiss and exploring with his tongue and hands.

_I'm on my bed_

_My bed of stones_

_But in the end of the night, we'll rest our bones_

Terry giggled and it was softer than cotton candy clouds. Clark buried his face in Terry's wild locks while the smaller teen nipped at his throat and laughed. That laugh traveled like a blazing wildfire straight to Clark's aching groin. He growled low in his throat and pulled away from Terry, looking down into that beautiful face that was looking up at him with such want, with such expecting need. He tenderly traced that smooth jaw line and planted a soft kiss at the corner of that exquisitely carved mouth. Terry wrapped his arms around his neck and drew him close, and they both just laid there breathing each other.

_So don't you worry_

_Just rest your head_

_Coz in the end of the night, we'll be together again_

Terry's right hand came around and slowly traveled further and further south. Thunder boomed over their heads as Terry found his belt and began unfastening it. Clark was hard, and he knew that if Terry so much as touched him with that wicked hand, he would have no control left. He took hold of Terry's other hand and those haunting eyes held his.

_So don't need to worry_

_I'll make your bed_

_And in the end of the night, I can hold your hand_

He lifted his hips up a little bit so he could move and Terry's hand snaked inside his jeans and Clark's eyes almost rolled into the back of his head when he was firmly gripped and squeezed. He bucked his hips forward into that strong grip and Terry had him by the bottom lip, nibbling on it with his pearly whites.

_So come close, close to me_

_And I'll come closer to you_

_Coz in the end of the night, when all we have is gone_

Clark moaned and he was flat on his back with Terry on top. He was naked and glowing like a full moon with storm clouds billowing about his stunning face. His eyes were blue lightning and his voice was golden thunder. A tight heat encompassed Clark's engorged length and he cried out, coming awake in his own bed with the radio blaring on his dresser.

_Yes, in the end of the night, when I can be with you_

He gasped for breath and smashed his radio without truly meaning to. He fell back against his pillow, taking deep breaths as his poor radio fizzled and died. Feeling hot and sticky, he lifted up his sheets and saw the creamy mess he'd made of the front of his briefs and groaned. This was his first wet dream since he was thirteen.

"Shit!" He hissed under his breath, wiping his sweaty forehead with his palm. _I just dreamt of Terry riding me…_

00000000

Terry felt himself falling and opened his eyes and bounced right off the bed and into the floor with a loud yelp and thud. There he laid, sprawled and with the bed sheets wrapped around him like a caterpillar's cocoon. He groaned in confused pain and struggled to his knees, falling several times because of the sheets.

He kicked and clawed, hissed and spat, finally getting out of the sheets. Stumbling to his feet with a curse, he limped over to his dresser and turned off the alarm on his cell phone. Looking up into the mirror, his _blue_ eyes widened. There was a complete stranger looking back at him from the glass.

His eyes were a light blue, like topaz. His complexion was a deep bronze; smooth and golden. It was as if he'd gone to the tanning bed every day for a month. Shakily, he put his hand to his hair and gasped. Every strand was white as snow and silky soft to the touch. He combed his fingers through it and gasped.

His cowlick was gone.

"What the fuck?" He asked the stranger gawking back at him from the looking glass as he looked his naked body over. Even the well maintained bush between his dreamy bronze legs was white as fresh cotton. Looking back at himself in the mirror he asked, "What do I do?"

He jumped when his mom suddenly yelled from downstairs. "BREAKFAST!"

He wrapped his arms around himself and started jumping up and down on the balls of his feet as he spun around in a circle. "Oh mah gawd, oh mah gawd, oh mah gawd, oh mah gawd, oh mah gawd, oh mah gawd, OHMAHGAWD!"

He suddenly realized he hadn't been breathing this whole time and sunk to the floor all lightheaded and dizzy as hell as he gasped for much needed air for his burning lungs. A knock came at the door and he quickly grabbed a bed sheet and threw it over himself just as the door opened.

"What in the world are you doing in here?" His mom asked, stepping into the room. "And why do you have that sheet over your head like that for? You're not cutting holes in my sheets for Halloween again. So forget it."

He felt his mom grab the sheet and he grabbed back at it. "No!" He cried, pulling on it. "Let go!"

"What is wrong with you?" His mom gasped, pulling the sheet off from him and stumbled back a step or two as if it flew up over her head.

He quickly wrapped himself up into a tight ball as his mom pulled the sheet from her head, looking down at him in a wild and confused fury. But, her look suddenly changed from confused fury to just plain confused.

"Terry?"

He rocked back and forth, embarrassed at being caught naked and horrified at how he looked. She was down on her knees and pulled him closer to her.

"Let me look at you," she ordered, grabbing his chin, forcing him to look at her face. "Your eyes? You don't have contacts! Do they hurt? Can you see me okay?"

"Yes," he whined at being manhandled and his cheeks were burning with humility.

"Is this spray tan?" She asked, running her hands over his face, trying to take the bronze off. "It looks too perfect to be Snooki."

"Mom…stop…"

"The lightning," his mom said, touching him here and touching him there, tugging at his hair. "Get some clothes on. We're going to the hospital."

She was like tsunami.

All he could do was obey her, but he waited for her to leave the room before he stood up.

**To be continued…**

Hi! Thanks for taking the time to read this latest chapter of Storm Watch. I hope you all enjoyed. If you did, please let me know by leaving a review.

~Flora

**Note:** I do not own the song lyrics used in this chapter. They are the property of Zola Jesus. The song is titled "Night." Isn't it glorious? If you get the chance, go and listen to it on Youtube. The live version is even better than the studio.


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